Buffy No More: The Illusion
by Sherann
Summary: This is a story I have been rewriting for seven years and I am almost still certain that it sucks. But whatever, here goes. The title reads "Buffy No More" and "The Illusion" and that is exactly what it is. I wrote a combination of short stories (that you can finish all in a day) that depicts a world and an existence without Buffy.
1. Chapter 1

At the break of dawn, I watched Dawn, the overworked housewife, picking up the toys off her lawn. She wanted to get to work on time, but those stupid toys out front always prevented her from doing so. It was too bad, the sad life she was living was because of her pathetic husband, Xander, who did nothing but drink beer and play video games. He never tended to their young daughters or mowed the lawn. Nope, he lugged his tall lump of flesh into the one-story home every evening delegating everything for Dawn to do. If she was the daring-type she would have cheated on him, nothing made a man more pissed then if he found his woman in bed with another man. If not that, she would've at least grown the balls to kick him in the balls, it's not like he didn't deserve it. But the thing was all that stuff wasn't a Dawn Summers thing to do, it was a Faith Lehane thing to do. Oh, and by the way I'm Faith Lehane or at least I use to be Faith Lehane. You won't get that little remark until later so it's best that you hold out till the end.

That morning, I woke-up like every morning that passed year from a recurring nightmare about the Forest-Alley. After I'd kick myself awake I would greet my mischievous neighborhood through the crack of my curtain. I would watch Dawn Summers in the morning the same way she would watch me later that night on her lawn (because we were the noisiest town ever born).

Always, around eight or so Dawn would lay out her blanket on the grass and pretend to be eying the stars when in reality she would be eavesdropping on William and I's daily throw down. Listening in, Dawn wouldn't feel the normal sympathy for my horrific marriage, but envy the passionate fights William and I had because they would always end in bed. The cute twenty-two year old medical admin yearned for this passion because she knew that she would never exhume anything close to that from Xander. Depressing I suppose, but only if she knew the truth. I would have given anything to be Dawn Summers and not have blood on my hands, to not worry about anything except kids, school and… coupons… I guess… I suppose. If she knew the deep loads of crap I was in she would never lay her blanket on her lawn to watch me ever again.

As I continued to peer out that transparent glass, I thanked God that William and I were able to retake-up residency in the small-town known as Sunnydale. We never really had to fake it because everyone there was (conveniently) as fake as we were.

I left the window when I saw Dawn pull off in her dented blue minivan. I wondered how I would spend this Friday. William was off to 'work,' and when I said 'work' I meant screwing around with some common whore. Mad? Not really, at least that's what I told myself. The only question I had was who was the trick this time? _she must have been great to keep him out all night._ Every time I thought of it I would instinctively grab the orange juice and vodka, mix them together, and call it breakfast.

I went out by the porch that Friday morning desperate to have a smoke with my alcohol, but then I thought that would give the little detective across the street another reason to call me completely insane. He already thought William and I did those crimes aka murders in Topeka. Detective Crate was slowly turning the whole town against us so smoking at seven in the morning could be the little thing that confirmed his suspicion. So I ruled out cigarettes and just sat out on the porch steps of my house drinking my OJ and alcohol. It was in this moment of meditation gazing on the perfected outside of Sunnydale I questioned my existence. I guess the real reason I moved back was because I felt I needed to get in touch with me again. Because sometimes I swore my nightmares were more real than my actual life.

 _Who am I?_

I always questioned. Was I the bad girl with no conscience like everyone deemed it or was I something more? I always had the feeling I was something more… but hey, doesn't everyone.

My thoughts became distracted when Dawn's van rolled back into the driveway. _Did she forget her notebook again? Dang, she always forgets her notebook?_ Just as I predicted, I saw Dawn zoom into her house and zoom right back out. She threw the book in the passenger's seat then stopped all motion once she saw me.

"Faith," she called out waving her hand, "good morning."

With a half smile I waved back, "Late for work again Mrs. Harrison?" She had a bright smile but it dimmed a little when I called her 'Mrs. Harrison.' It seemed as though she had a few minutes to spare so I approached her leaving my orange juice on the porch.

I leaned over on the hood of her rusted minivan. "You've been rushing around a lot lately, what's happening?" I asked. This was what I labeled as being normal. If the detective across the street saw me mingling with neighbors having a good laugh he was less likely to suspect me.

"Well you know the relatives are coming over," she told me. I could tell that she wasn't happy about this.

"Xander's relatives?" I suspected. I had no idea why she was with this dude, she secretly hated his guts.

"No actually mine… my mother's house is being renovated."

"Mother? Curly, sorta red brown hair, lives in the next block over?"

Dawn shook her head confirming.

"So if it's just your mother why you so upset?" I inquired.

Her face lowered and her cheeks lost their bright red color. "Can I confide in you Faith?" She took in a deep breath. "Um… so recently my mother got married."

"Oh… so that's the guy with the glasses she's always with?"

"Yeah they eloped, so quickly, and I don't trust him around me or my girls."

"Is he a petefile? Wouldn't be the first petefile to enter Sunnydale."

"That's the thing I don't know! I think my mother's having a midlife crisis. First she quits her job, goes away to London, then runs off and gets married to the first Brit she meets. She's gone insane. Not only are they coming to stay with us, but Rupert, that's her husband's name, is also having some friends over."

"Oh wow, so packed house?"

She shook her head again.

"I suspect they're gonna put you out, make you clean and make all the food?"

Dawn was embarrassed to say, but she timidly nodded her head. "I bet you never have to go through any of this?"

When she said that, I felt for her. Even though her problems were less than mine they were still her problems and they felt humongous to her. "Maybe your mom is having a midlife crisis," I started. "But she's living her life and you need to live yours, the life you want to live. Now do I agree with who she married? No. Take it from me those dudes from the UK can't be trusted."

"Oh but William seems… nice."

"You mean 'hot.'"

"Well, no, of course not-"

"Yeah you do. Please I'm not one of those jealous hoes, you can say that he's hot. But take another lesson from me. Bad boys are only hot short term, it's not hot when they get in your face, cheat on you and pick fights with you-"

"It's still better than what I have." That was the only comment Dawn said with absolute certainty. I let her have the last word even though I had much more to say. "I have to go to work."

Then she was officially off. Her mini-van pulled out and into the street. "Oh Faith!" She screamed from the driver's seat. "Are you headed to the ceremony for Detective Crate!?"

I responded quickly. "Yeah, since everyone's gonna be there!" _Oh Yeah!_ I had forgotten all about that event. As Dawn zipped down the road and out of sight I thought, yes, another opportunity to show the detective that I was innocent. _If he sees me at his ceremony he'd think I had nothing to do with the crimes in Topeka. Why would a guilty woman show up at a cop's ceremony? Crawling with cops!_

So the plan was made, to the ceremony I would go to hopefully to clear my name and this world would _hopefully_ , for the first time, be ok with me. Soon, I drifted off to sleep on the couch until I was dreaming.

In my mind, I arrived at a place I had been before.

My nightmares-terrible, but normal. I saw myself in a dark Forest with a whistling wind that could scare the boogie man away. My stomach was heavy with a vomit that wanted to run up my throat but couldn't. I would turn to my left and find Dawn. This seemed normal to me because Dawn lived next door and then William popped up, he was my husband, so of course both of them would be in my dreams. But then as I stood feet planted in the soil, Detective Crate, his wife Cordelia, Willow, Xander, Oz, some other unfamiliar faces would join in, until we all stood in the Forest. It was uncomfortable as any Sunnydale gathering, because seconds into this Forest get-together we would be crying-no sobbing. Tears, and tears, running down my face, with thick blood on my hands. I held a wooden stick covered with the dripping red. The stick sharp because I had obviously used it as a weapon. Lying on the ground was a girl. I knew this woman. But not in the way I knew everything else. She had a face like a China doll and hair that was shimmering blonde. In this part of my nightmare she was dead-butchered. And it was because of me. Me and everyone else standing in the Forest. Right before I woke, my mind would function as if it was confused so it would run through a montage of killings and demonic creatures that I only saw on shows like Supernatural. Then when it was all done I would be standing in this alley. Let me say it and then I'll say it again, I hated being in that alley, I hated being in that alley. And the craziest thing was I had no idea why I hated it or why I was even there. The butchered blonde girl would be alive in the alley staring at me with cold eyes. And whenever I would see her gaze I would kick, kick and kick. "Faith wake-up! Faith wake-up! FAITH WAKE-UP!" I'd scream until I finally did what I commanded. Like usual, I shot up from the cushion, my face dripping with sweat.

It was noon; jumping up from the worn couch I rushed to get ready. It was time to head to the shindig for Detective Crate. In all honesty, I was happy to attend. Taking a few hours to secretly hate all my fellow townees would surely get my frigid mind off the Forest and alley. My heart ran at a rapid pace as I made a beeline for the door. I still didn't understand why my nightmares felt more real than me. Why?

When I got in my car, all I had to do was follow the line of cars. Everyone was on their way there. It was a good thing because I was rattled and I had temporarily forgotten where Sunnydale High was. Yes, the alley and Forest were so terrible that I forgot where my high school was. When I finally arrived, I parked in the last good spot available. Hastily, I got out and stole a quick glance at the car window using it as a mirror. Hair was good. (I admired the die I used, apparently my hair could get blacker.) Soft, clear, lipstick; didn't want to look too much like a rebel. My midriff was covered and my eyeliner was a thin brown; I almost looked like a suburban princess.

After my check, I plowed through an interesting crowd of everyone who inhabited Sunnydale. _Did this many people care about Crate? My God!_ My attendance had purpose, _why were all these other people spending their lunch break here?_ Then right as I thought it, citizens passing by in private conversations told me why. The guys mumbled, "he's an outstanding human being, he saved us all." Oh yeah that's right Crate was the one who fished out that bomb. "Oh my God! Crate's the sexiest man in the universe," a hoard of high school girls gossiped. I had to agree with them, he was the exact definition of tall, dark and handsome, but he was also too clean-cut for me. It also wasn't a turn on that he was trying to arrest me for MURDER.

I was so deeply engrossed in thought that I didn't hear my phone dropping out of my pocket. A red-headed girl behind tapped the upper part of my leg to alert me. "Lady you dropped your phone," she said.

I smiled then turned back to her. I responded, "Aye thanks babe," in that 'mushy' voice everyone used to talk to children.

My smile immediately erased when I saw whose little girl it was. Red hair and a face that was super pale, _she could only be the daughter of…_

"Robyn! Robyn!" I heard a motherly voice calling from behind me.

I knew who it was instantly. Willow Rosenberg. She came to a halt when she saw me to flash the look of disdain. She wanted to pounce on me right then, but her daughter still stood in between us and so she sent her away to her father, Oz. Willow then turned her attention back towards me.

"So um they let school out early, I see?" I struck up an awkward conversation just to appear cordial.

"Yeah, ended my last class at 11:50," said Willow playing along with me.

"You and Oz, eight-"

"Ten years, ten years, we've been married. And you and William?"

"Going on our third," I answered stoically.

"Oh really? I seriously didn't expect you two to last that long."

And that was it, the little rude remark that sparked the flame. The little rude remark which sparked all our flames.

There were always people that hated me more than most, Willow was one of them. Her hatred started when I saw her making out with her secret lover, Tara, in the bathroom stall, so whenever she would piss me off I would remind her. "It's funny because Oz doesn't look like a girl. I mean he's short as hell-"

"Shut-up! You don't know me."

" _Oh really?_ " I taunted throwing her slick insult back in her face. "Because by the look of it I know quite a bit."

"You haven't changed Lehane. You're still no good."

"You think that bothers me, 'No good,' is on my ID card."

"Well now you can add another word to your ID card. 'Murderer.'"

"I didn't kill anybody." I got a little closer and my eyes got a little deadlier.

"Of course you didn't," she sarcastically laughed.

"I have the nerve-"

"To what? Start a fight with me. Listen, I know exactly why you're here, you want to make a good impression. I'm telling you now, if the top suspect hits an innocent mom that won't bowed well for you."

"I'm telling the truth." I caught my eyes wanting to cry but I quickly recovered.

Willow laughed ominously. "Isn't it funny? Our lives turned out exactly the way the yearbook predicted. I became a loving teacher/wife, Xander's a pathetic UPS comedian with his miserable wife Dawn, Cordelia is ruling the world with the most eligible bachelor, and give it time and you'll be an A1 felon. I guess high school really does set the pace for the future."

She walked away and I did nothing. Our meeting ended on a flat note. No fist were thrown, no cuss words were said, I just walked away afraid of looking vulnerable. I felt exposed after, I felt everyone was looking at me, blaming me, accusing me. In my bones a shiver was ignited and I suddenly felt that I couldn't avoid life in prison; that my crap would land me in a permanent spot behind steel bars. My life would amount to nothing more than someone who squashed their potential.

My sight found Willow again, she ran into the arms of her dwarf garage rockstar husband, Oz. To think, I went to school with both of them. I witnessed how Willow went from the innocent little jew kissing girls to being one of Sunnydales cutest high school couples with him. Ugh! Willow! I hated that little closet lesbian, she somehow possessed the ability to push me off the edge every time.

The ceremony began, and I found myself skimming the list of negatives in my brain deciding to dump each off to the side until I cried myself to sleep later that night. I inched myself closer to the front as the audience applauded louder and louder.

"Detective Liam Brenton Crate!" The mayor of Sunnydale introduced after a pointless speech about community, then the man of the hour came up with his bride. Crate had on a fitted police uniform filled with silver and gold. His hair was whipped to the side and his face was clean. He looked beautiful. The first thing he did was flash his perfect relationship in front of the world by kissing his trophy wife, Cordelia.

Cordelia. Yeah, I had a little story about her being played in my mind at that moment. She was in the same class with Willow, Oz, Xander, and I. You guessed right, she was Miss Popular; it made my stomach churn with disgust to see her life turned out perfectly just like her dear old daddy dreamt it. She wanted to be the center of the town and now she was. She wore a baby pink dress like she wore her prom dress, to perfection.

She sat off to the side as Detective Crate positioned himself at the podium. "Please, don't clap for me. I was just doing my job. That's what all of us on the force try to do when we get in," Crate began. "I am honored to be a part of a loving town like this and I just wanted to let everyone of you know that I live to keep you safe and I'll die to keep you safe. I mean that." Then he ended bowing his head. _I live to keep you safe and I'll die to keep you safe_ , such a boy scout, such an Angel. I mentally confirmed that that would be my name for him, Angel.

The ceremony wrapped up quickly after that. Through my foggy vision glazed with tears I watched Cordelia link her arm with the Angel. They disappeared into a crowd, smiling, and kissing one another. Willow stood beside Oz clapping and laughing at the same time. The family of redheads looked like they belong on the front page of a catalog. I knew I was in bad shape when even Dawn's family was playing the role of happiness well. Her two girls were in sundresses galloping in a horde of bubbles. Xander, her idiot husband, had his arm draped around her while also holding her mom. Her mom's new husband Rupert was chatting it up with locals about something worth giggling about like he had been in Sunnydale for years. And there I was-I didn't even have a person to look fake with and that was the most depressing realization of them all.

Nobody wanted to associate themselves with me and no one wanted to be near me. It was as if I had a disease that naturally turned people away… maybe it was because they knew the little secret about me possibly killing someone… or maybe it was because I was the one with the loser husband who slept around. I mean everyone was at the gathering except for William and _My God!_ he didn't even bother to call and say he was alright. I was crap to everyone, even to the ones who sorta cared about me. The crowd began to leave and like a dork I stood at the center of the Sunnydale High lawn. My feet were plastered to its ground and I could not even attempt to move. I didn't want to return home so I sat in a place where I could find some serenity. Instead of thinking nice thoughts, my head wandered to my nightmare of the Forest. In the moment, I could vividly see the blonde girl, her flesh ripped apart, her eyes dim.

Hastily, I pulled out my phone. 'Blonde girl murdered,' I typed into the Google search engine, but none of the girls looked close to the one in my dreams. I tried to talk to myself. _What are the odds Faith? What are the odds that you and all your enemies, neighbors, and family got together and killed a girl in a Forest?_ I nearly succeeded in convincing myself, but my attempts were always thwarted by a bad gut feeling.

While in my deep thinking, a sweet child interrupted me. He looked about ten, smooth brown skin, Indian-descent with an old pair of clothes on. He didn't have to say a word, I already was searching for his mother, but the school yard was deserted. "Hey kid, where's mom?" I asked him.

My face was twisted and red from basking in the sunlight for too long. Then he brushed past my cheeks with his palm. Weirded out, I shook upon touch and instantly became mesmerized by his shocking pink eyes.

"Don't worry, there is no need to worry about murders in Topeka."

I would have been surprised that he knew this fact about my life, but the truth was everyone sorta knew. Although, I was surprised that people were telling their children. "Maybe you should go home kid." I told him.

"I have no home and neither do you. You are just a placeholder, someone who is not real and in a few days your identity along with your lost memory will be returned."

So in my life I heard slut, hoe, and killer; these were all words that were used to describe me. But never had I been called a placeholder and unreal. I chuckled at him as he gazed blankly at me. "I think it's time to go back to mommy kid?"

"I have no mother. This is an illusion."

The word "illusion" left a bitter taste in my mouth even though I wasn't the one to say it. I couldn't detect if it was an insult or a kid just being super confusing. I had plans to address him but, my sight shot away for just a second and he was gone.

Spooked a bit, I ran back to my car. I didn't think twice, I cranked up my Honda and went on a useless drive going around in circles. The Indian kid went at the top of the list when it came to freaky, but the encounter was the least of my problems. I wondered if my presence at the ceremony made a difference in anyone's mind. I wondered if William was alright. I knew he was cheating, but he could have at least called, sent a text or something. Every time I went for the road my house was on I made another swerve in the opposite direction. I then started to think about the Forest and then the alley way, which always took up at least two hours of my life.

When I arrived home it felt like I had only been out for a minute. The pitch black sky said hours. Dawn had already began to pull out her blanket on her lawn.

I wasted a day cramped up in my old Honda dreaming of a blonde girl murdered in a Forest. I still was thinking about it when I entered my home. The only thing that broke me out of my horrid trance was the horrid smell of sex. I can't describe what sex smells like-maybe it's more of a feeling. I stood at the tip of my feet attempting to come up with a different conclusion, but I couldn't.

It had to be William.

Racing to our room, I swung open the door and found him sleeping, he was bare underneath the sheets, fast asleep-both of them-silly him; he didn't even realize that I had stepped into the room. Was he with some whore? No, well, let me rephrase that, he was with a whore, but just a high-class one. Cordelia: Detective Crate's wife. _You scored big this time babe, congradu-freakin'-lations!_ I stared at them, just for a little bit. Her perfectly smooth caramel face rested on his chest. She was no stranger to his chest. They had done this before. All this time I had been sleeping in the same bed as the demon cheerleader, sharing the same chest as the girl who outcasted me and betrayed me. Oh… the… irony. Did I throw a temper tantrum? No, I guess William had his reason. I was willing to bet that this was his little plan for not getting arrested. The Angel Detective Crate would stop his little investigation if he thought his wife would be labeled a tramp. _Good plan honey, good plan._

I crept out, not wanting to disturb them. Out the door I went, the tears skydiving off the rims of my eye lids. Across the street I ran, until I ended up in front of the Crate's residence. I banged and slammed my fist on the detective's door. Crate opened up and he had on a white beater and some pajama pants. In his hand was a cup of orange juice with vodka in it. He saw the tears tumbling off of my cheeks. I would never forget what he said next, "So it's true." I think the reason why this experience was so memorable for me was because he carried his same stoic expression, he wasn't the slightest bit surprised that his wife was a cheater.

"I want you," I uttered in a menacing tone. "I want you to get your wife out of my bed."

Instead of complying with my demands he simply stepped aside inviting me in. Almost instinctively, I did and ventured into the living room that smelled like assorted candles and cigarettes. "You smoke?" I couldn't help to ask.

"When I'm stressed, yes," Crate answered straight. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No." I answered bluntly. "How ya gonna handle this?"

Leaning on the counter, I saw the shift in his eyes that went from depression to seduction. The transition was obvious, because I utilized my eyes in the same way. The eyes: the most complex part of the body, the one part that spoke without much movement or sound. "How do _you_ want to handle this?" He said to me and I knew exactly what he meant.

The most powerful emotion, revenge, nothing brought about more affliction and destruction than revenge, in that moment revenge felt good, so right.

"Do you know what you're doing?" I asked him. I knew what I was about do, but I had no time to fool around with boy scouts and Angels.

Detective Crate smirked and nodded his head. Then, I ran into his arms like he was the only source of security, and I tugged on his clothes like he was a life line. My lips collided with his, we skipped past all the cute stuff and went right in. My eyes were open and they fell upon his bedroom off in the distance. I wanted that bed. I wanted to take back what Cordelia stole from me. I wanted her to unknowingly at night sleep in a pile of me and I wanted the scent of Angel to engulf me so when William laid on my chest, he would smell it. Hungry for it, I kissed him deeper and closer to that bed. Giving in, my eyelids fell shut and finally I began to buy into what I was about to do, but when I did my mind drifted to the Forest again. I was in the Forest again with that bleeding girl.

"NO!"

I screamed with everything within me and I violently broke apart from Crate pushing him into the wall. I was crying, wailing almost, as if I committed a crime. Crate stayed plastered to the wall wondering what he did to set me off. I darted out of his place, back across the street; I went not realizing there was a car speeding down the road. It came to an immediate halt before it ran me over. Collapsing on the hood of the vehicle in complete shock I caught a glimpse of the driver, a disturbed Willow Rosenberg. Before I knew it I was being whisked away by another neighbor, Dawn Summers, who caught everything first hand from her blanket on her lawn. I didn't have the strength to push Dawn away or to scream _"NO!"_ when she grabbed me from the car hood and into her arms.

"GO!" Dawn commanded, telling a remorseful Willow to drive off. Willow hit the gas and flew forward out of sight.

Dawn took me into her house. My legs were spaghetti trying to keep in step with her. Entering into her place was a blurred vision. She was having some sort of a house party. _Ahh… that's right_ , her relatives were there. Through the cracks of my eyes I saw everyone looking at me. Xander was in his flannel shirt, beer in hand, peering at me. "What's up with Faith?" He inquired.

Off to his side were Mr. Giles, her step-father, and his friends' Wesley and Winifred Wyndam-Pryce. Then in the kitchen was her mom and I heard her say, "Dawn what's wrong with that girl?"

"She just had a little bit too much to drink," Dawn covered up for me.

"That explains it," Xander responded with a sense of obviousness. I just continued to whimper. I couldn't remember a time I was more distraught.

The next thing I knew I was in Dawn's room lying on her bed.

"Dawn." I said, staring into the pretty yellowish orange color the light was making on the ceiling. "Thank you."

"No problem," she stuttered.

It didn't take long for me to recover physically and I shot up from her bed. "I have to go."

"No. Stay." She told me, not wanting to sound forceful, but she did. "Relax, you might kill William if you see him and you don't want to go back to the Detective's house I'm sure, so you stay here, or I mean you can stay here."

I slowly took a seat back on her bed.

"Your folks don't mind?" I inquired.

"I don't care if they mind or not. You're my friend."

I jumped back agasp. "I am?"

"Yeah, you're… how do I say? Cool. And you don't have to worry about anything your secrets are safe with me."

"Ok." I replied.

"We can just sit in silence, until you're better and then when you're alright you can go back-"

Then a switch flipped in my battered confused brain; an overwhelming, disturbed Faith finally arose after I had pushed her down for so long. "I don't want to sit in silence." I said in a commanding tone.

"O...K…" Dawn stuttered in confusion. "What do ya-"

"I need to tell you what's going on."

"Ok."

"Because if I don't…" I cried. "I'm afraid that the truth along with the lies will eat me alive."

The mother of two jumped onto the bed I was sitting on. "Spill." She was all ears.

"We never murdered anyone; William and I. When we got married we hooked up with Odell and Tracy for one night!"

"So you do know them?"

"Yes, but we only did petty theft with them. Just one job so we could get an edge, a thrill you know. Then shortly after the cops were asking if _we_ killed those people. My guess, Odell and Tracy turned the blame on us..." I went off my words crying again.

Dawn took me by the shoulders. "You're not a killer Faith. I knew that you weren't before you told me. I knew the rumors weren't true. You were just with the wrong crowd, it could have been any of us…"

"But what if I am?"

"You told me you just did theft?"

"No, I murdered someone before that, I had to have had."

"Why? What happened? I don't understand."

"I've been having the same nightmare over and over again and it's only getting worst."

Dawn was getting scared, but she kept her composure. "Alright calm down and um… tell me."

I did as she said and I calmed myself. "I keep having this nightmare where I'm in a Forest. We're all there standing over a murdered girl's body. Then after that I am in some alleyway and I'm dress like a slut. I'm young. I have this piece of wood in my hand and I stab a man with it. He slowly dies, his blood on my hands. The worst part about it, there's the murdered girl again, I've never seen her a day in my life. I didn't mean to kill the man, it doesn't process as murder yet, but it's when I look at that girl, her face disappointed, appalled, surprised… I begin to feel the full weight of what I've done. It's so real to the point that I say it had to have happened. Whether it was the Forest or the alley I know I had to have killed someone. I just don't remember."

"I understand."

"No you don't."

"But I do." Dawn tucked her foot underneath her other leg finding some kind of comfort in what she was about to reveal before it even came from her mouth. "I have nightmares about the Forest, but that's because of that high school trip into Macromby Woods that we all had to take annually-"

"But these woods are different-"

"No Faith they're not. Everyone has nightmares about those woods even Xander. And as for the alley. I think we all have an alleyway-a recurring nightmare that doesn't go away. Every night I have a dream about a man with glasses; he has a knife in his hand. I'm at the top of some ledge bound by rope crying and that's when he begins to cut me."

I knew what she was saying was true because she started to tear up and I couldn't believe sweet Dawn had dreams such as that.

"My blood begins to drip, and here's where it gets weird. As my blood drips a portal of some kind opens underneath me. Demons of all kind escape from it and as I watch them escape I come face to face with what I really am, evil. That's when some girl comes to me, I can't see her face through my tears, she says something to me that makes me cry and then she jumps off the ledge leaving me distraught. It's not so much the nightmare that scares me it's the way-"

"You feel. Like you've been there before. THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING!"

"I call them feelings from another life. But when it's all said and done I remember that this is my reality and the nightmare isn't real, it never happened. Repeat after me, the nightmare isn't real, it never happened."

Then I repeated, "It's only a nightmare it never happened."

We shared a hug and it was the best form of love I had ever received. I completely ignore the fact that her words of encouragement sounded too rehearsed, like she had spent a good part of her time trying to convince herself of this as well.

 _It was only a nightmare and it never happened._ I repeated mentally for comfort. Dawn was right… partially, it was a nightmare, the stabbing, the girl's brooding eyes, it was awful, but I was about to learn that it did, indeed, happen.


	2. Chapter 2

In an old Sunnydale bar, across from my lifetime foe, Willow Rosenberg, I sat in a booth at 12 in the morning having an icy cold drink, attempting to uncover what should happen next. Surprisingly, Willow and I weren't spewing out any expletives, or insults, we were just talking, having deeply needed conversation.

Willow pulled the cherry out of her margarita and ate it off the stick. With one finger, she twisted her tangled red hair and asked me, "alright what happened to William?"

I didn't hesitate as if I was talking to my natural born enemy, instead in my close to drunk state, I spilled the beans, and began to tell her what happened last night, the day the craziness began.

I was fixing up William's suit trying to prevent my hands from grazing his golden dome head. William the day before had a mishap with a new hair dye and his brown curls hours after laid flat and blonde. As soon as he discovered this, he scowled at the ground as if he hated it, but truth was he loved the change, even if it did make him look like a gay vampire. I couldn't stop messing with his hair, it was so slick and shiny. The next thing I knew I was kissing his lips just because I loved his clean homosexual appearance (it was a turn-on for some reason.)

I know what you're thinking, did I forget that this jerk known as my husband, cheated on me with Cordelia Chase-Crate? Well let's just say I was trying to get passed it. I had to face that William and I were tied together for eternity and breaking away from him would be a mistake I would not be able to recover from. I was the dependent bad girl who didn't see her life without a man and whenever a thought of independence came forth I would shove it back in the closet where it belonged.

It had been a week since I ran to Detective Liam Crate's house because I was so upset at his wife (Cordelia) for sleeping with William, oh… and then there was the thing where I almost got ran over and then I had a confession session with my "supposed" best friend Dawn…. Ugh! Last week was a tough week. Well, I decided after that day of catastrophe that my one desire was for everything to go back to normal. I wanted all the allegations of William and I killing people to go away, I wanted to go back to my regular dysfunctional marriage, I wanted Cordelia Crate to stop sleeping with my husband, and I wanted Dawn Summers to just be the chick next door. "From here on out," I thought, "this is the way it has to be." My first step into that direction was to gussy up William for this Sunnydale's Men's Gathering. I took on the role as perfect housewife all of a sudden and began kissing him and dressing him. To be honest, I loved the normalness of it all, it finally felt like we were putting the past behind us.

"Honey my tie?" William reminded me. In the afternoon, I had been ironing his blue tie for this event. I rushed to the living room where the ironing board was set up with the tie laying on top of it. Amazing how that small little insignificant moment worked out, I went to go pick up one piece of clothing and when I looked up I saw Cordelia Crate-Chase through the window in her home doing the exact same thing. Cordelia held a red tie in her hand wearing an old blue t-shirt that resembled the one I had on and she also wore the same shocked expression looking at me as I was looking at her. Beside the fact that we knew each other since high school, we also had this weird chemistry because, you know, she slept with my husband and then I tried to sleep with hers. We soon broke the stare, feeling the universe would collapse if we spent anymore time gazing.

I went to tie the tie around William's neck; and so the night continued. I watched him get into his rusted old blue truck and head down the street. I had plans to watch television and go to sleep, fear of alleyways and a forests had subsided and I could finally rest again. I was guessing telling my secret horrid dreams to Dawn worked.

Everything was headed in the direction I wanted it to, William was back to normal, I was sorta back to normal, I was watching TV on the couch while drinking juice. Everything was alright until a knock came from the door.

Now I know what you're thinking, who was my mystery visitor? It was no one really. I opened up and found a skinny, puppy faced, brown-haired woman standing in front of me. It took a while, but I finally guessed who it was. I spent a good minute fumbling around trying to remember the lady's name and then she finally told me.

"Winefred-"

"Wyndam-Pryce." I shouted her last name showing I could remember names.

"But you can call me-"

"Fred." I finished her sentence again. I had officially met her when I left from Dawn's house last week. Her and her husband Wesley were Mr. Rupert, Dawn's stepfather's, friends. _Why in the hell were they still here?_ In the most kindest words, I heavily disliked her, and her husband. So you could probably understand why these were my next words. "Yeah... um if you don't mind me asking, when are you leaving?"

"Oh yeah…" she communicated with her hands and her dorky smile. "Wes got a little sick and so I'm just waiting for him to get better."

"So he can't travel? How sick can he be?" For a moment while I was speaking I became Dawn's friend again. I felt the only reason why Fred and Wesley were still in her house was so that they could drive Dawn mad.

Fred replied. "Well if it's just between you and me it's not like the common cold. Wesley took a tour of Sunnydale High two days ago, right when we were originally supposed to leave, and then he came home screaming."

"Oh so that was him the other night who was yelling, 'he's after me, I'm after me….'"

"Yep that was Wesley," she said still smiling politely even though it could be said she was probably going insane. "Yeah we're just staying here to get him some help."

"So I'm guessing he's not going to the the little men's gathering at the school tonight?"

"No, not him nor Xander."

"Yeah I suppose Xander's drinking and re-watching an old game."

"No, actually, he's been sleeping all day-"

"No surprise."

"Well actually I think he's going through the same thing Wesley is going through. You see he took Wesley to the school and they both came back a little coo-coo. I think whatever those kids got over there they must have contracted."

"Interesting."

I didn't think much about what she was saying even though her fake bright smile appeared to be a cry for help.

"Rupert is going to the event though, which should be nice, so I guess he'll tell us all about it." She mentioned.

"Yes… now what did you come for?"

"Ooooh… that's right. Time flies when you're having fun."

' _Not really,'_ I wanted to say but I kept my opinions to myself.

"I needed some salt for my soup and Dawn told me to give you this." She pulled out a note written on a printer paper and handed it to me. In return I got her the salt. On the verge of slamming the door, I heard a scream come from Dawn's house, "I'M AFTER ME! I'M AFTER ME!"

"Oh there goes Wesley again," Fred grinned even harder. "Better go make this soup for him."

Her smile was so appalling I shut the door in her face without care.

Feeling the thin sheet of paper she gave me in between my fingers made me nervous. I felt tempted to discard it, Dawn was never a priority, so the letter held no importance; this was what I wanted to believe. But I couldn't resist so I opened it. I had been dodging my so-called friend's calls and texts so letter was her next form of communication.

I read it aloud:

 _Faith what's wrong with you. You're supposed to be my friend and now you're avoiding me. Anyway, I need your help, there's something wrong with Xander and Wesley. My stupid mom and Fred keep trying to play it off like it's normal but whatever is going on with the two of them could be categorized as demonic. Wesley won't stop screaming, which I'm sure you heard, and Xander sleeps, which is normal, but then he wakes up in the middle of night yelling that he is in pain. He starts to hold his left eye and starts to cry telling me that his eye is missing. Then he starts to scream the same thing that Wesley does, the "I'M AFTER ME," bull crap and I don't know what he means. And then last night he did something truly strange, he cupped my cheeks in his hands, his eyes wide open and asked me, "where's your sister?" So as you can imagine I tell him I don't have a sister. Then he tells me that I do, and then he says, "Buffy, where's Buffy?"_

 _Help please!_

Myheart wanted to be with her, but my mind said it was time to move on. I threw the paper in the trash, as a sign of closure and progression. Then out the window, again, you wanna guess who I saw? Cordelia Crate-Chase throwing some trash in her kitchen garbage. My mind was telling me I should hate her guts, but then my heart was telling me we're all messed up here in this crazy town, so she slept with my husband, why should I care. Why should anyone care anymore?

I must have passed out around one. I was trying to keep myself up because I wanted to tell William about what was happening in Dawn Summers's house, but he never came home and I ended up falling asleep. And when I fell asleep I ended up in the Forest-Alley-Again! Physically, I got my body into cringing/ kicking position like I always did when I would find myself there. Everything happened like it always did. In the Forest, I was standing over the poor blonde girl's body with everyone I knew in Sunnydale. This time I recognized three people there that I had once considered strangers in my nightmares. There was a man with a heavy brown coat and a little bit of scruff around his face. He wasn't considered gorgeous but his rustic look made him all the more attractive. He stood next to a woman of alien descent, she had blue hair, eyes, and blue shade outlining her face; a body that was too stern to be homosapien. Last but not least, an older gentlemen with spectacles and a dashing suit. I got as close as I could to them in my nightmare and realized the man in the brown coat was Wesley, the blue alien woman was Fred, and the older gentleman was Mr. Rupert Giles. Once realizing this, my mind had transported me to the alleyway with the alive blonde girl to finish out my nightmare.

I awoke. The sun was breaking my eyelids open and I was sweating a lake on the couch. It took awhile for me to realize I wasn't in my nightmare anymore, I was safe. A couple things happened next, I thought about rushing to the room to see if William got in, but then I was distracted by the weight of my nightmare, so I made a careless decision to run out the door and I arrived a minute later at Dawn's place. I knocked repeatedly and finally she opened up.

"Faith!" Dawn embraced me. "Oh thank God you're here, I need you to help me!" Her smooth cheeks were damp with her tears and her kind face had been swallowed by the magnitude of her fear.

I was extremely selfish in this moment. I didn't want to help her I wanted her to listen to me. When I entered her home I was immediately greeted with the mumblings which came from Mr. Rupert Giles. His tall lanky body hovered over the sink as he washed the dishes, his eyes not deviating away from the window and his hands going at a robotic pace. He uttered, "Into every generation, into every generation, into every generation…"

My intentions were diminished at this strange sight. I made sure to keep my distance because his expression was creepy and his face was drained. "What's up with your mom's husband?"

"He's been like this all morning." Dawn's lips trembled in fear. "Faith I think this house is haunted. I have my girls locked in their room because I'm afraid Xander and Wesley, and as of this morning, Giles are going to hurt them. Faith I don't know what to do…."

"Woah calm down girly, relax," I was giving this instruction to her and myself. "I mean there's an explanation for this. Where's your mom and Fred?"

"Shopping."

"Ok, let me talk to the old man. Maybe he's still dreaming… you know… because he's old." I approached Mr. Giles to speak with him even though I was for certain I couldn't help him (I didn't specialize in crazy.)

"Into every generation, into every generation, into every generation…" He continued to mumble even when I got close.

"Mr. Giles." Immediately, when I said his name he ceased. The plate he was cleaning dropped to the bottom of the sink. All in one motion his head swung towards me, his eyes fell upon me, his hypnotic gaze peered into me. "Mr. Giles." I said again.

Then he spoke. "In every generation there is a chosen one. You alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. You are the slayer."

He blinked his eyes once then said it again. "In every generation there is a chosen one. You alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. You are the slayer."

I was beyond weirded out, his eyes were fixed on me and I had not the slightest clue as to what he was talking about. Dawn pulled me out the kitchen in fear that he would touch me. We hadn't realized that behind us Xander and Wesley had emerged. When we turned back we found them approaching us like zombies who were under a spell. Then as a threesome Giles, Xander and Wesley recited, "In every generation there is a chosen one. You alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. You are the slayer."

I didn't think twice, I grabbed Dawn by the hand, "let's go," and I ran out of the house with her. I thought going to my house would be pointless so I took her across the street to someone who could possibly help her, the detective.

"Why are we going here?" Dawn begged.

"Well in case you didn't realize babe, that's not normal. Let's get some help from Crate and figure this out."

"Ok…" she hesitated, "but won't this be awkward?"

"Emergencies trump awkwardness."

I rang the doorbell and the last person I wanted to see answered. Cordelia Crate-Chase opened up, she had bags under her eyes with the fakest smile plastered on her face. "Hi how are you ladies doing-"

"Let's skip past the nice talk. Dawn needs to speak to Crate." My bluntness wiped the grin from her face and in a matter of moments she was pushing me back preventing us from going in.

"Go home Lehane my husband has had enough of you." Cordelia said with her cold stare.

"This has nothing to do with me! This has everything to do with Dawn, now something is going on in her house, now let us in!"

"You can't see him!"

"Oh please! What am I going to do?! Flirt with him in front of you?! I don't even really like him I just tried-"

"He's sick Faith! He can't see anyone!"

"Nice excuse, now-"

"No Faith! I mean Liam is really sick. He hasn't been himself since he came back from the men's gathering last night."

And that was when the puzzle pieces started to form. "Did you say the men's gathering?" Dawn cut in. "That's right! He was at the school too."

"YES," Cordelia enunciated. "He's not feeling good!"

I stared deeply into my enemy's eyes. "He's scaring you isn't he?"

Cordelia didn't want to admit it but finally she caved in and said, "yes."

"Can we please come in?" Asked Dawn.

I could tell the former demon queen cheerleader didn't want to be alone, which meant the Angel Detective was acting as psycho as all the men in Dawn's home.

When we entered the first thing we heard was mumbling. I tried to get out of my head that the last time I was there Crate and I were trying to have sex.

"Honey we have visitors…" Cordelia alerted him even though he was unresponsive.

When Dawn and I turned the corner we found the detective in a dark corner. There were bags accumulating under his eyes like he hadn't slept for days. His hair was unkempt and he trembled like a drug addict. Dawn's hand came over her mouth when she realized this was the same strange case. Crate from my point of view looked as though he was hiding, but I couldn't tell from what. Then he uttered those words, "I'm after me."

"What does that mean?" I threw out the question.

"I have no idea," Cordelia cried. "He's been mumbling that all morning, about him chasing after himself, some gypsy curse and a Buffy."

Dawn perked up. "Buffy. He said Buffy? Xander said Buffy, it's some girls name probably."

"What? It's a terrible name." Cordelia gagged.

"It doesn't matter," I shot back. "It doesn't matter what the name is. Something about this 'I'm after me' is driving everyone crazy. Someone has to get to the bottom of this. You both should call a doctor."

"We all should call a doctor," Dawn said looking at me. "This obviously has something to do with Sunnydale High. Faith, have you seen William today?"

"No." I answered.

"That's right," Cordelia sighed. "He's probably on the same luney express."

"Maybe… but that still doesn't change the fact that you both need to get all of them to a doctor. I'll deal with William when I see him, he's already crazy, I doubt if he can get any worse. He's probably out with some chick again." I responded.

"No," Cordelia revolted. "My husband is the most respected man in Sunnydale. If anyone else sees him like this his reputation will be ruined. Let's give it time ok."

"What time?!" Dawn hollered. "I'm hiding in my children's room! I'm scared! There is no time! Something demonic or haunted is happening-"

"Then you can take Xander to the doctor, leave Crate out of it. Listen Dawn," Cordelia argued. "There are no such things as haunted houses, demons, vampires, or slayers-"

"What's a slayer?" I shot back at her. "What's a slayer Cordelia?"

Caught off guard, Cordelia answered. "Some mythical creature, who stands against the forces of darkness-"

"Yeah I got briefed on that part, but how do you know what a slayer is? Everyone knows about vampires and ghouls and stuff but nobody knows about slayers-that's a term I just heard from Giles and Wesley. Did Angel tell you about them just now?"

Before she could answer, I became distracted when I saw through the window of Cordelia's house a car rolling into my driveway. I left the girls bickering to see what was the matter.

The car in the driveway I recognized right away. It was a beautiful Lincoln owned by my former crush, Lindsey McDonald. _What in the hell was he doing here?_ Right foot first, Lindsey came out of his sophisticated ride and then he went around to the backseat to yank out my husband.

He asked me while he saw me coming over. "I'm guessing this is William?"

"Yes," I answered quickly. "Where was he?"

William pranced around like a confused maniac. He had a blanket over his head and went running into the house.

"What the hell happened to him?" I stuttered. "He's still in his suit from yesterday."

"Faith I think your husband needs some help. I found him sleeping out in the graveyard. Thought he had too much to drink, but-you know, looks like something more serious." I didn't have the chance to admire Lindsey in his armani suit that day, even though he was looking more attractive than usual with his intense 'I'm a lawyer' stare. William had taken my full attention.

I couldn't get the rest of the details, I just rushed in hoping to figure out what was happening to him. I searched around and there I found him hiding in the closet. I immediately knew it was the same case, I just begged myself not to panic and tried to assess the situation with some kind of composure. _He was out by the grave, why? He's hiding in our closet, why?_ He was in the same crouched position as the Angel Detective. He kept mumbling, "big ball of fire."

Then a light bulb appeared above my head, I pulled him out of the closet and quickly opened the blinds. At the sight of the sun he coward and quickly scurried back in crying, scratching, coughing like I never heard him do before. I didn't know what to make of this so I did the most professional thing, I typed his symptoms into the Google search engine.

What popped up? Well the most obvious answer; Vampire.

Again I exclaimed, "What in the blue hell is going on?!"

When William settled down I dragged him into bed. He stunk and smelled like dead people. I still took a chance and rolled right into bed with him hoping that my presence would return him to normalcy. He did eventually quit his staring of the ceiling and went to sleep, when the full moon was high his eyes shot open and he shook me. I turned over and my sight met his. I was slightly freaked out and I did consider running away like mad but his eyes looked so soft, so kind.

"I'm a monster you know," he told me. I wasn't comprehending at first, but then it came to me that, maybe, William slept away his insanity and was about to apologize for the run-ins with Cordelia.

"No I don't think you're a monster," I responded ready to forgive him, ready to love him again.

"I'm a monster but you make me feel like a man."

It was the nicest thing William had ever said to me.

Then he cupped my cheeks as if he was prepared to kiss me. "You're the one Buffy, you've always been the one."

When he said this my heart flopped to my stomach, for a great many reasons I suppose, the most obvious reason being _'there goes that name again.'_ But also for the stupid girl reason that I thought he was talking about me, but he was talking about another. I would've preferred it if he was talking about Cordelia, I knew Cordelia, " _but who in the hell is Buffy?"_

"And so here I am Willow, after William called me 'Buffy,' he went back to sleep, I couldn't so I came to this bar then you came in and here we are. Well that's my story, so you were saying a similar thing was going on with Oz?"

Willow proceeded to lean in. "Well he wasn't scared of the sunlight, more like the opposite, he was afraid of the moon. He started growling at me and scratching the wall, and that's why I had to go. I dropped off my kids at my mom's and came here because I was afraid."

"And this all happened the same time?"

"Yeah, right after the gathering. But I don't understand, you said the high school or the gathering is the cause of all this mayhem, but my father went and he's completely fine. Why did our guys end up this way?"

My mind had drifted away, it had began to turn to something, a thought, an explanation, but it seemed too crazy to be true. Willow saw that I was in some trance and she snapped her fingers. When I shook my head to break myself free of thought a ringing came from the door. Lo and behold, it was Dawn and Cordelia who entered and they appeared to be having the same kind of rough night. They caught Willow and I staring at them and decided to join us at the booth. It was Cordelia, of all people, who broke the silence between us.

"Well never suspected to be next to you three."

"You got that right," said Willow crossing her arms.

Dawn inched her way closer to me as a way of drawing the battle line. "By the way Cordelia did you ever say sorry to Faith for sleeping with William?" She questioned, trying to be my little sister again and take out my oppressors. "And Willow did you apologize for nearly running Faith over with your car and calling her a killer? Since we're all together I think it's time that you guys did." Dawn said with all the sass in the world.

Willow and Cordelia's faces turned sour, a bar room brawl was on the verge of going down, one that I had no interest in seeing.

"Everyone stop!" I resounded. "I don't care about our differences, what you think of me, what you did to me, I'm a big girl Dawn, I'm over it. What I do care about is what's happening to our families."

"Alright Faith, you think you know what it is?" Cordelia replied.

"I have an idea," I posed, "but you guys are not gonna like it nor are you gonna believe it." I took an extra breath because I had no idea what was gonna come out of my mouth. "Remember Dawn when you said that you thought your house was haunted? Well that may not be a far off idea. What if someone put a spell on them? What if there was something mystical that went down at that gathering? I know for sure William thinks he's a vampire and I'm guessing Oz believes he's a-"

"Werewolf." Willow finished.

"You can't be serious?" Said Cordelia.

"I may not be." I exclaimed. "But I think it's worth perusing through Sunnydale to see if we can find out."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Then after we do your little detective adventure can we go get real help that's not from anyone in this town?"

"Yes Cordelia," I gave her the death stare. "You can do whatever you want, but tonight it's our turn."

"Tonight?!" Dawn said in shock.

I leapt off my seat swallowing the rest of my drink. "What? You wanna go back home?" Everyone rapidly shook their head knowing that their crazed husbands were not people they wanted to run into again. "Alright, then back to high school we go."


	3. Chapter 3

"Let me grab my jacket and I'll be right over."

This was what I said to the girls leaving the bar at 1 in the morning. _Let me grab my jacket_ … The words so simple, the execution meant to be quick and forgettable yet a moment that was supposed to be erased from memory turned into a milestone. I eased into my car which slept in the middle of a lifeless parking lot. Seconds earlier, I watched Willow zoom out in her red mustang onto the quiet road, then Dawn's clanky minivan reversed and headed out next, and lastly Cordelia sped off chasing after the both of them in her brand new burgundy Rolls Royce convertible. By the sound of her rubber ripping the concrete, Cordelia was not thrilled at all about this plan, made completely evident when she shot her trimmed devilish eyebrows up at me before she left. But I was for certain she was with me despite her lack of faith. It was either run around Sunnydale like a couple of headless chickens or play detective. The plan of investigation was simple, we head to the school, Willow would use her spare key to open up and we would search for clues for a possible… ghost… spell… _any evidence_ … which could point to our husbands' strange behaviors. If this failed then we could run around like a couple of headless chickens. I told these three ladies I would meet them in the back parking lot in ten minutes all they needed to do was wait for me. I just had to get my jacket-surprise, surprise, just like all haunted stories I would never reach the school.

Everything started off as planned, I drove wildly down the road to get the coveted jacked. I remember rolling up real fast, slamming the brakes on arrival, jerking forward like the car's loud and unexpected thud was a surprise. Nearly falling out the driver's seat, I wasted not one moment and I busted into the house. I wanted to find my baby blue jacket lying on the rugged sofa where I left it, but instead I found William.

William before I left to the bar was all snuggled up in bed venturing between crazed and delusional, but he was peaceful. Now there I was, at the edge of myself, in the middle of the night, looking like a dollar whore gazing at the slow stream of blood oozing, dripping, flowing out of the center of my husband's stomach. He laid in his own guts and saliva. His eyes staring blankly at that cheap portrait of a flower we bought at a yard sale. Arms stretched to the max, his fingers gripped the blade which did the crime, while his other hand clenched my blue jacket.

Was it the screaming or the calling of 911 that came first?

I had completely forgotten how to conduct a panic mode. I knew it was the moment for me to start knocking on doors and calling family. I knew this was the moment for checking heartbeats and wailing, and flailing, and excessive screaming, but all I could do was stare. Stare and watch as his platinum blonde hair soaked up his own blood causing the dye to go from blonde to a light pink. There was so much blood. Proper thing to do was to call the girls waiting anxiously at Sunnydale High to tell them that "hey can't make it to our private investigation, unfortunately, William was murdered."

Oh, and there was that other little thing, like who killed him, who would want to kill him… and was that person still here? _Oh crap hadn't considered that._ What if it was Odell and Tracy? There was a huge possibility they could have tracked us down and killed William and was waiting upstairs to kill me. _Well who cares?_ I threw my hands in the air nonchalantly trying to play this whole situation off like I expected it. _That's right I said it! Come kill me you bastards! You rather well just finish the job! Come on! Here I am crippled by emotion wallowing in self-pity!_ I was ready. I was ready to die, I didn't want to do it anymore. It was official, my life broke me. I was broken! I was nothing but a common whore who didn't deserve any happiness or joy or success-obviously-because why else would the universe kill off my husband! I dropped to the ground, my face blotchy red, ugly with wrinkles, my hair stringy and knotted like a bush because my hands couldn't stop clawing at my scalp. I made sure my clothes became saturated in Wiliam's blood.

 _Why! Why!_

Until it finally came out, "WHY?!" I cried, and cried. My depression so thick it clogged my ear drums and I didn't hear the low tapping of a man creeping up behind. I didn't know he was present until I saw his shadow overtake me. It wasn't Odell, he was too tall to be Odell. He was obviously the perpetrator, because come on, who else was it supposed to be. I thought about turning around, but that was too easy, I would walk right into his trap, as soon as he would see the fear in my eyes he would kill me, then bury William and I in the backyard, and we would never be heard from again.

I planned on doing something, but I did nothing, I just waited to see what would become of the last part of my life.

He lowered his arm, I thought he was aiming to chop my head off, but his arm was moving to slow. His hand gently landed on my shoulder, his touch cold, sending chills throughout my body, his skin pale as the moon. In a low hum, he whispered to me, "he's not dead."

His words did not catch me off guard, but his voice did. It was depressed, solemn, with a lack of expression, possessing no form of a happy-emotion, just deep and stoic. Any person would picture their attacker as an ugly, bold-face criminal; someone who was a stranger. So it was crazy to believe that I pictured my husband's murderer as none of those things. I rehearsed his opening line in my head, _he's not dead_.

That voice was familiar, _to_ familiar, it could only be… I shot up from where I stood hand clenching my gut, eyes razor sharp. The person was and wasn't who I expected.

"Crate?" His name dripped from my lips like a slow draul. My knees broke and my gut twisted. The questions popped in my brain like firecrackers. I couldn't speak, breath and for a moment I couldn't see. _Did Detective Crate kill William? Did he hate him that much? Did he decide that he couldn't charge us for the murder so he finished the job? Or… was he seeking revenge? He was upset that Cordelia slept with William so he decided on a little pay back?_

"Faith… it's alright." He told me, but I didn't believe him, not for one second. If you could see what I saw. The tips of his hair were raised to the ceiling like he was shocked by lightning, his wild eyes impersonating calmness, and his voice stuttering. He was in a white beater covered with a dingy gray and off to his side was a piercing red line of stained blood, it looked like it came from an open wound. And he was pale, so pale. If I didn't know him I would have assumed he was a visitor in California or an employee who worked in a freezer.

I thought if I made a run for it he would attack and my body would never be recovered, so I stayed still and firm, playing brave, desperate to get to the bottom of it all. "Why are you hear Liam?" The sound traveled out my throat bumpy and unsubtle (not what I was going for.)

"Spike is alive… I mean William is alive…You just have to wait." He trembled.

"Did you kill him?" I had gone from panic to angry-mom tone. My voice was stern and my eyes were lazors.

"Yes-I mean No…. Faith."

"Crate! Did you kill him?!" I had no idea what I would do to him once he confirmed, but at that point I just needed to know.

"You are not yourself."

 _You got that right! You killed my husband!_

Detective Crate placed his hands on my arms and I didn't have the nerve to shake him off. "Faith. This is an illusion!"

All I could think was; _this was the strangest excuse to having killed someone_. _This is an illusion… ok… was I supposed to buy that or understand it?_ I didn't think it was possible but I was more in the dark than I was before. I thought nothing could top the devastating ignorance of not knowing what's up with William, but this did it.

When I couldn't find the next breath or words I uttered, "How? Crate what do you mean by illusion?"

"Uhh…" he groaned. Hunched over and confused like he got off a rapidly spinning Ferris Wheel. "I don't know how to explain this to you."

"Well you better because William is lying in a puddle of his own blood and you're beginning to look hella guilty."

"It's… a hard… hard to explain because this is not real and…. you're not really Faith."

The statement jabbed me in the stomach and I didn't know why. It should have had no affect on me, just empty words coming from a mad man, but in my heart I knew this was something worth hearing.

"Ok Crate you're not making any sense; if I'm not Faith than who do you think I am?"

"I don't know. How bout you tell me who you are?"

I felt this conversation was useless and going in circles but I was desperate to meet its conclusion. I had this strange intuition even then that the answers it would provide would be useful."Listen. I'm not going to hurt you Crate… I just want to know how William died. Will you please tell me? Please!"

"He killed me first. To put it simply. He did it so my placeholder or the fake me could leave my body-"

"Wait-what? Fake who? What left what body?"

"I believe you call him Crate."

"But Crate is you?"

"No Faith… I am Angel. Angel: the real owner of this body."

"I don't-"

"You do, put together all the strange calamities that have been occurring and in there you will find your answer."

Immediately, when he said it, my mind went on a reverse adventure of what had happened before. It went through award ceremonies, and then I recalled the Indian boy who first told me I was an illusion. I had completely forgotten about him, threw his little blank face away, and didn't pick him up again until now. I then compared the Crate of then and looked at the one in front of me. His features all the same, his demeanor direct, but this man was not the same man. Then I saw something truly haunting. We had a mirror adjacent on the opposite wall. I saw my fingers trembling in its glass. Crate was right in front of me, yet his reflection didn't show. My eyes moved back and forth, back and forth, then back and forth, trying to make sense of the anomaly.

"I'm a vampire," Angel said knowing what would be my next question. "Spike killed me and then killed himself. He did this because we needed to break the illusion to begin turning back to reality. This could only be achieved through death much like everything else in this world. This does not make sense to you because you are not the real Faith. Unfortunately, you are just a placeholder for the real person… or slayer. That's why I asked who you were?"

"Ok so… what I'm understanding is I'm fake." I let out a synthetic chuckle. "I liked it better when people called me a killer and a useless whore."

"Why would they do that?" He leaned against the wall asking sincerely.

"You should know, since you've been trying to arrest me. William and I use to know this couple Odell and Tracy. They went on a kill spree… got us involved… that's when you started up an investigation against me and my husband William. Any of this ringing a bell?"

He stared at me blankly. "Wait-you and Spike were married? That's a twist."

"Yes and you and me tried to sleep together."

"You and me?! Did they put us under a Shakespearean play illusion? Spike would sleep with anyone, but he wouldn't marry anyone unless it was… never mind. Anyway, it's just more evidence of why this world isn't correct. We shouldn't have come here."

"Well if I'm an illusion why haven't you stabbed me to bring "the real Faith" back."

"Because I can't, the real Faith hasn't been set free, if it wasn't for those limitations I would gladly stab you."

 _Woah…_ was my reaction.

Then you can imagine how I felt when I noticed the bar stool by the counter beginning to rumble. By this point, I assumed there was nothing else that could surprise me. Crate was obviously off his rocker and into some crazy crap I wasn't aware of and William was-

I think it was at this point that I threw normalcy out the window and took up the baton of supernatural stupidity. The rumble that occurred was, I guess, a signal and just like that William arose from behind the counter, breathing, moving-Alive!

"Huh?" Was all I could say.

"I told you he wasn't dead." Crate mocked

"Detective how is this… who is this-"

"I told you I'm not a detective…. Well I sorta am…. Just not the detective you're thinking about. My name is Angel. I don't know Crate."

"And this is?"

Angel assisted who I knew to be William to his feet. I could hear William's skin stitching itself together as he stumbled about like a drunk man. I think even then with my normal mind I understood I was witnessing something supernaturally strange which was not in accordance with a figment or a nightmare. My husband who I thought to be dead stood on his two feet covered with blood, but still very much alive. I decided that casting away my disbelief was the only way to uncovering the fullness of this situation; I had to step out of my reality; especially since these two entities in the body of William and Liam did not believe in my reality.

"Ok so Spike's alive," I said as calmly as I could trying to reach Angel's level of poise. "If this reality isn't real… how are you two planning on getting back to your reality? I guess you would call it the "real" reality?" At this point I was confusing myself. Then I simply asked, "Who am I? If I am not the real Faith, who is the real Faith? What evidence do you have that the reality I'm living-"

"Ok!" Angel exclaimed. He was as frustrated as I. Spike was mumbling weirdness as he struggled to come back to consciousness. Angel placed him on the nearby armcharm and then returned his attention to me. I could see by every gesture he delivered he was contemplating whether to tell me. He looked on me always like I was a character or a ghost, like someone who wasn't supposed to be. Rolling his eyes back in his head he wondered if he was wasting his time.

But then he finally spoke to me, "did you ever have unusual visions or dreams or maybe nightmares or experiences?"

"Well I think everyone has those-"

"No!" He sighed. "Listen, when they do these illusion prisons there is usually one spot in the illusion, if only for a second that does not fit. For example, there was one illusion where my friend was forced to pretend he was the father of a happy family. Everything was perfect until he was asked to go down into the basement of the house and a demon would rip out his heart. That was the abnormal in the illusion."

Then I thought, "The alleyway. The Forest!"

"What?"

"The alleyway… Forest," I repeated. "I would always have a recurring nightmare that would freak me out. I would first be in a Forest standing over a dead blonde girl and then I would be in an alleyway and I would stab this man. And I would say that it's a dream but when I'm in it it feels so-"

"Real. Because it is. I don't want to speak about your Forest dream, but I can tell you about the alley. I remember Buffy telling me about this." And there went that name again, 'Buffy.' "You and Buffy were slaying. You were headed to the warehouse, killing vampires, everything was good until you turned the corner. There was a man approaching you and you thought it was a vampire, so you stuck the stake into his heart. It comes to find out he was human, afterward you took the body and dumped it. It was your first time killing an actual person. After that you went down a really dark path."

Then _Bam!_ A montage of the actual event played in my head and I remembered it so clearly. The blonde chick and me were stabbing these vampires, they disintegrated upon the wall, and I was feeling good and invigorated. We were the ultimate tag team duo and that's when I launched forward, I spotted a man and my kill-dar went off. The blonde-Buffy said 'NO!' but I flew too far forward and before I knew it my wooden stick was already knee deep in his heart. Gushing out of his chest was blood, tons of it. Buffy kneeled down in front of him trying to bring him comfort with, "we're going to get help" and "hang on" but the more she spoke the further he slipped away. The one drop of blood oozed from the center of his mouth and then he was gone. I could feel, in that moment, every emotion of defeat and depression. The sirens sounded and I told Buffy that we needed to disappear. I dived over some ledge and she dived out of some fence. She left altogether, but I circled back to the body to dispose of it. _I killed someone. I killed a human being._

That was when the sun arose over the horizon, I assumed I cemented my deep feelings under concrete. I was scrubbing the human blood off my blouse and shortly after Buffy entered. With eyes of tainted innocence she looked on me with disappointment and disgust. It was this uncomfortable encounter in which my ears first heard the word 'killer,' Buffy was the first to tell me that I was a 'killer' and since then life had never been the same. Or should I say the 'real' Faith's life had never been the same.

"So what you're saying is that time in the alleyway was real?"

This question was directed towards Angel but it was then another voice arose. It was a limped and drained Spike. "It's not a real memory for you, but the real Faith and since you're in her body you have snippets of her fears and memories."

"And you must be Spike… not William?"

"I wouldn't say not William." Spike explained. "William and Liam were our names before we were sired. A mythical illusion is a lie that carries much of the truth. It's why they are so convincing-"

"Ok ok ok. Let me understand. This everything, my world is just an illusion and a trap for you guys. And the only way for everything to return to normal is for you guys to kill us and return to your bodies."

"Yes. We agreed to serving our term here for five years. Then after five years the gypsies were to return our identities and then we break free." William explained.

"And we agreed to never speaking of the experience." Angel finished.

I again pleaded. "This doesn't make any sense!"

Spike rose from the armchair having been restored to full health. He picked up my husband and I's framed photo sitting on the glass coffee table. I noticed he had been gazing at it for a while, but he hadn't taken the opportunity to really study it until now. "This life of normalcy we had, this normal town, with normal problems-"

"NORMAL!" I screamed. "Everyone hates me, my husband cheats on me and I was about to be arrested for crimes I did not commit-"

"Yes! Believe it or not that was the good life. The life you actually live is so much worst." Spike said in a morbid tone with a guilt heavy tear travelling down his neck. His face was borderline angry before it wrinkled together into something demonic. With mustard yellow eyes, sharp teeth and thick brows he took on the appearance of an animal. I had seen the creature before and heard it's deep growl in my dreams, but never had I ever thought of encountering it: can anyone say Vampire?

"Spike stop it," bellowed Angel. "You're scaring her."

Spike's intention was to strike fear into me in hopes that his vampire form would bring back the real Faith.

"Spike I said stop it!" Angel hollered again. They both let out a loud snarl and I took off like a frightened prey. Spike was right in this case; my old problems did seem very miniscule in comparison to all this. As I ran out the back door I expected sharp teeth to pierce my backside any moment, but as I plunged into the woods the only one who was chasing me was my dimly lit shadow. I can't say it was a well thought out plan (because I didn't plan it) but whatever it was it worked. Instead of chasing me, the two vampires (who used to be my husband and foe) started to fight each other. I halted at one point to hear their dastardly remarks toward one another and they sounded like two man-monsters fighting over a girl-not me-but the mysterious blonde from another life-Buffy. The insults of "How could yous" and "I loved her mores" flooded the atmosphere as I ran for my life.

So there I was, walking down a familiar road, if you could call it a road. I remembered what Angel had said, "an illusion" I was nothing more than an illusion. _Then why do I feel so real? Who is the real Faith? If we share the same memories then doesn't that just make me an extension of her? And most importantly, why does she get to have this body and not me? I'm an illusion? Are you freakin' kidding me! I feel freakin' real! I'M NOT AN ILLUSION!_ I wanted to brush this off and call it some weird episode of sorts, but when I thought back on everything that I had been through and how that alleyway nightmare/ Forest murder extravaganza felt more real than most of my life. I had to say the theory of William and Liam getting repossessed with their _actual_ identities had to be the God's honest truth. But- But-there was just this one little thing that was killing me. In order for their world to exist all the fakes had to go which meant me. Angel lied. The William I knew was dead. The actual William who came in his pickup truck, who got me a lousy engagement ring from a side vender was gone. This supernatural scheme was a pawn to remove us, the illusions, out of the picture. _Well-I don't want to be an illusion I want this body_ _-_ _I want to live!_ I stumbled down a road and when those thoughts unraveled in my brain I shot forward like the Flash preparing to fight for my life-my reality.

It was shortly after, I spotted a burgundy convertible heading my direction. It was speeding and swerving like the driver was drunk. When I got a little bit closer I saw it was none other than Cordelia Chase-Crate. I panicked and jumped in the middle of the road flopping my hands about like an escaped asylum patient. Cordelia jammed her foot on the break and once again I found the side of my face slapping the hood of a car. When the engine cooled its rumble I heard Cordelia's wails of fear rise as she tumbled out the driver's seat. After a million "Faith where were you?" She proceeded to tell me what was the matter. "Oh my God Faith! They got Willow and Dawn and I ran for my life!"

I peeled my cheeks from atop of the vehicle to calm her. I didn't mean it, but my first words were, "CORDELIA SHUT-UP!"

Surprisingly, she swallowed her tears and insults to listen. She looked like a child who desperately needed to pee when she was through.

"Now tell me what happened. The short version preferably."

"You want short?!" The detective's wife blurted out. "How bout WE'RE SCREWED! Is that short enough for you?! Sunnydale is haunted!"

"HOW! HOW! HOW!" I shouted over her constant bickering.

"Before we even got into the school there was this little cute but ghostly Indian boy standing in front. No one had seen him before, it was the middle of the night and we wanted to take him back home. I mean Willow and Dawn wanted to take him home. I stepped aside to call Detective Riley Finn to see who this kid's parents were and that's when I saw from a distance the kid opening up a chest or box… whatever, then some misty stuff came out and he said "to you your soul has returned, you are free" or some crap like that. And then Willow and Dawn looked all dazed and confused and then they began talking to themselves and then I took off running but then I couldn't leave my beautiful car behind-"

"Alright!" I raised my hand. "I get it. In other words, it's just us two."

"No-Yes-I mean yes-no. I mean we are gonna help them right? Faith…" She said with the most concern I had ever seen her portray. "What's going on? What's happening? I am genuinely afraid and if there is anything we could do to stop this I say let's do it. Would have gone to the police but I was afraid they wouldn't believe me. So I thought maybe you could go to them. It's ok if they think you are crazy right?"

Cordelia for the first time ever had her attention on someone else other than herself. _Cordelia not thinking of herself_ , it had to be the most scariest moment of my life. Realizing that it was only us. I took her by the hand preparing to go through everything that happened from the moment I left the bar. "Imma about to tell you something. But first I need two things from you. I need you not to freak out and above all else-believe me."

It was then I told the super condensed version of my trip to get my jacket. I watched as the hairs on her head sprung up even more at the mention of William and Liam turning into vampires. Goosebumps fled up her pretty brown skin when I told her their intention was to kill us and replace us with the real version of ourselves.

At the end I asked, "any questions?"

Cordelia licked her lips and wiped the sweat from the back of her neck at the same time. In these moments of wobbling down a deserted road together we became the best of friends. Not because of a choice that was made, but because we were now all each other had. I was certain that the identity giving boy was making stops to everyone else and I couldn't risk running into him.

"So Liam is dead?" Cordelia repeated. "You know despite what everyone thought I actually loved him you know. But as far as everything else, I am not surprised." _Really cause I sure hell am!_ "I have these piercing visions that are other worldly and I keep having nightmares too."

"What are yours about?" I asked not knowing anything about visions, but knowing a lot about nightmares.

"I dreamt that I was in an attic, maybe a basement, and an invisible girl was on the verge of carving my face. Weird right? At first I thought the invisible girl was just a floaty knife but as I dreamt more I realized that she was a girl that couldn't be seen. She was angry at me because people always saw me, but could never see her. She was on the verge of completely destroying my face." It was when she got to the halfway point, I noticed a whole new vulnerable side of Cordelia coming out. "I was trapped in a chair, staring at her sharp utensils hoping that she would make a mistake and just stab me to death instead. I rather be dead than live a second ugly. It's in that nightmare I come face-to-face with what I really am. Selfish and weak."

"And what happened next? Did the girl ruin your face?"

"No-a blonde girl… I'm guessing Buffy… came on and attacked her and saved my life."

"Is Buffy in all of our nightmares?"

"Wait! I'm getting something!" Cordelia made a sudden stop. "I remember Liam telling me about a dream/ nightmare he had. He said his eyes were open so wide and in front he saw the most beautiful blonde angel. Her eyes were filled with tears. She kissed him and he said he felt free. But then all of a sudden the blonde girl whipped out her sword and pierced him in the gut. It went right through him like butter and as he reached for her he fell into a dark portal of nothingness. Deep right. For the longest time I was jealous of the girl, you know, because I'm nowhere near blonde."

"I'm willing to bet my life that the 'blonde girl' is Buffy and I'm also willing to bet that the blonde chick in Dawn's dream was Buffy too."

"What did Dawn dream about?"

"I don't know. Something about her being on some ledge and about to die and a blonde chick saving her. The point is I think if we were to talk to everyone we know they would say that they had seen her in their nightmares."

"So who's Buffy? This is not the first time we've heard of her."

"I'm willing to bet she's the key to this whole mystery. Add on to that fact that all our dreams are supernaturally based. You're getting carved by an invisible girl, Dawn opens portals, Liam is falling back into a portal. God what's with all the portals?"

"Ok-where are you getting at?"

"Maybe we have to seriously consider that we actually aren't real."


	4. Chapter 4

Consider this: You spend your whole life doing the human thing, the normal thing. You get married to some clown who promises to love you, you get a sorta decent job, you move into a house in the suburbs, you don't have kids, and you spend the rest of your days trying to hold onto what you think is happiness. Then one day, or night rather, something comes from left field and hits you like a semi. Someone brings to the table that you're not as real as you thought you were, they call you a placeholder for someone else, and that you were only meant to be temporary. All these years you wanted to end your life or you didn't see the importance in it and suddenly you have a desperate desire to survive because someone threatened to take it away. I mean, _what is that?_ I spent most of my time going on and on about how everythng sucked; I should have found it a relief to know that being accused of murder, bullying, and other crap weren't important because I was less than a vapor in the wind. But this little revelation showed me that no matter how content I was with wasting this brief existence there had to be a part of me that wanted it to amount to some significance. If Angel and Spike were to kill me when they did there would be nothing left of me on this Earth, and that thought had proven scarier than death itself.

By the pacing and constant murmuring of Cordelia, I could tell she felt the same way. "What about Xander Faith? Do you think the little Indian kid got him to? Or Dawn's mother's weird British husband? Did they kill him?" She gasped. "Oh God what would Liam say? No, no, no, no, Liam's dead! Oh God Liam's Dead!" She broke down and began to cry in the abandoned house we were hiding in. Her weeping understandable but extremely agitating.

I was posted at the window with an old kitchen knife in my hand waiting for vampires to devour us or even worse, waiting for the real Faith to take back her body. I was tired, but I failed to recognize it, I was over analyzing every little thing, constantly adjusting my sight, afraid that if I blinked too much my reality would disappear. But mostly, I thought about what this other Faith might be like. _What was she doing in that alley when she killed that man? What is a vampire? Are they exactly what they are in the movies? What is a slayer? Did the other Faith get paid for being a slayer? Did she just go around hunting vampires? What were her hopes and dreams and how did life steal them away? Who is Buffy to her and why did Buffy's disappointed eyes scare her? What is it about the blonde beauty queen that made her so fearful?_ It occurred to me in that moment that I would never know the real Faith, which sadden me, because she was probably the only one who actually understood.

In the background, Cordelia continued to wail as if she was at Liam's funeral. "I never got to tell him that I was sorry."

"Sweety!" I interrupted her. "You have gotta get it together." I went over to console her. "This is difficult for me too, but the truth is if we crumble then we'll be next. It hurts just thinking about the fact that I lost William just because I left the house for like an hour. And Dawn… she was really growing on me… even when I didn't want her to." I was dazed for second thinking about Dawn. I wondered if I wasn't such a selfish prick would our predicament be different. Dawn was trying to warn me long before, but because I was such an awful person she was at this time, probably, being stabbed and reborn. A sudden knock came from the door. The owner of the house was dead so I was certain it wasn't a visitor.

"Faith who is that?" Cordelia stuttered, her hand clenched on to my arm.

My grip tightened on that old rusted knife. The person uttered an intimidated, "Hello, is anyone there?" Just by the voice I could tell it wasn't a local, it was a man with a british accent which sounded much like Dawn's in-laws. Then he introduced himself, "It's Wesley Wyndam-Pryce."

Cordelia let out a deep sigh. "It's ok Faith I know him." She got up from her crouched position and headed for the door.

"Cordelia we don't know that," I exclaimed panickly. "STOP!"

"What? It's just Dawn's friend I met him, he's ok."

And just like that she stupidly opened the door and stumbling in came 's husband. Wesley was a rather tall gentleman with an honest face. His air in this case looked like a rag doll, but given the circumstances everyone looked horrible, so that wasn't out of the ordinary. He had on a fairly clean blue T-shirt, which caught me by surprise, along with a pair of freshly ironed khakis, he appeared to be too put together.

"What happened to Fred? Is she ok?" Cordelia inquired wanting to latch on to anyone in these vulnerable times.

"She's fine, given the situation; I began to wonder how you two were doing."

The response was so insincere, so fake, the only person who would believe it would be Cordelia. Then that's when I saw the little sliver of blood hanging from his hair tips adding onto the fact that Wesley always wore his oval glasses (Dawn said he was practically blind without them), in this encounter his face was bare. This was not our Wesley. I quickly pushed Cordelia out the way and lunged forward. I was hoping to aim higher but my knife was only able to penetrate his thigh.

It was a scream-fest after that, Wesley cried out in pain, Cordelia yelled in shock and I grunted with fury. Stomping his face to the ground I gave instructions to Cordelia, "get the rope!," "get the chair!," "get the cloth!" She snapped out of her frigid state immediately and obeyed my commands. Anyone could tell I was dead serious. In a matter of fifteen minutes, I had created the perfect interrogation situation. Wesley breathed heavily having to endure the discomfort of a kitchen knife in the upper part of his leg. I left the knife in there in fear of what might occur if I took it out. His arms and hands were bound together and I kept the yellow spotted dishcloth close by just in case he began to scream wildly. I had no experience with these type of scenarios, but I knew the questions I wanted answered.

"Fa… Fa… Faith are you sure about this?" Cordelia questioned. She waited in the background, her hands up to her mouth and her back arched.

"I'm sure I told her." I was sure, but not in any way confident. "Who are you? And why do you want to kill us?" I asked like a child inquiring to a parent about the existence of Santa Clause. As Wesley sat uncomfortably on that old kitchen chair I knew it wasn't the same dork who sat with his legs crossed in Dawn's living room last week. The leftover drops of blood in his hair was probably from his resurrection.

"I asked who are you?" I said more firmly.

His head hung, and then he lifted it to where his bright blue eyes met mine. When we connected face-to-face he chuckled hysterically and I took immediate offense.

"Is something funny? I can make that knife go in a little deeper you know."

"No please," He answered with a touch of concern. "My intentions weren't to offend, it's just that… Faith and I have done this before."

"So you've met the real Faith before?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I have. It felt like just yesterday she was torturing me in a very similar fashion."

"I didn't want to torture you… I had no choice."

It was then Cordelia uttered an _"Oh my God!"_ "Tell us who you are you creep!" She chimed in.

"Hey Cordy, I got this," I directed my attention back to Wesley. "Who are you guys and what do you want?"

"Wow… Angel was right. You do feel so real. You even in a way act like the real Faith."

"Angel…" I said.

"Yes. After Angel and Spike quarreled they came for the rest of us and then we set out looking for you. Believe me it won't be long till they find us." He said all this exhausted, bobbing his head up and down, but still so relaxed.

"You know I can kill you," I mentioned.

"Death to me at this point is an old friend. You can't live in this world and be afraid of it. Besides, as long as they return both your identities it doesn't matter if you kill me. This is still all an illusion."

 _God I hated that word!_

And just like Angel and Spike, I believed wholeheartedly in what the real Wesley was saying. "I just wanna know what's going on. If I'm…" I looked back at Cordelia. "If we're not real you shouldn't have a problem with at least telling us that."

"Ok…" Wesley kindly whispered. "In real life there is much to fear, and in real life we defeat the fear. Monsters, ghouls, Armageddons, evil law firms, first evil, vampires-but that night was different. We decided to come together and do something special."

 _It was Buffy Summer's thirtieth birthday and Willow had planned her party. Around that same time, there was word going around town of a demon called the Gamekeeper. They said he was one of the most powerful demons to ever walk the universe and that he had planned to wreak havoc on our world. They said he wouldn't stop until he ruled every realm._

 _Naturally, I shrugged my soldiers._

 _That's what happens when you've been in the world-saving-game for nearly a decade everything that you're supposed to take super seriously seems so small. We all decided that we were going to ignore our respective duties to pay homage to Buffy on her special day. We told Slayer Base #233 not to send warning to Buffy that day. She deserved a day to just celebrate her birthday._

 _We all met in the underground base. Willow decorated along with Cordelia and Buffy's sister, Dawn. Angel, Spike, and Oz came next and then Xander rolled in late. And of course Giles, me and Faith were there really early. It was the first time in two years everyone was under the same roof._

 _Five years after the destruction of Wolfram & Hart law firm in LA we had turned our saving-the-world-from-supernatural-disaster game into the most successful institution. The growth was incredible. The inclusion of every slayer on the planet was a huge hit, but because of it we were stationed in different parts of the world, heading up different sectors, some of us in different realms, leading on more abnormal lives than before. _

_It was because of this, we all had grown apart. This was why Buffy started to cry when she entered her party; she was so happy. With all of us there she was once again reminded how it all started. As I watched her embrace Giles, I couldn't believe that this all began with some ancient old spell which crowned Buffy the slayer at sixteen. And through her becoming the best slayer that had ever lived all of us were re-born. Some of us in the beginning aware of the supernatural, others not, but all of us because of Buffy, were inducted into a greater purpose. So there we all were fifteen or so years later battered and bruised, Xander missing a whole eye, none of us regretting the journey one bit._

 _The party was a quiet affair; we spoke softly to each other, just enjoying being able to stare into one another's faces again. We reminisced on how we dated and escaped disaster after disaster. And Faith reminisced on how she created disaster after disaster, but still found her way home in the end. In the midst of a joke Xander told, a loud rumble could be heard from above our underground building. The sound was so sharp that it rendered us stagnant. I remembered falling to the floor thinking I was going to die only to wake up a couple hours later to find the foot of the Gamekeeper right beside me. What happened next was a blur, but I can tell you this. While we were tracking the Gamekeeper in previous weeks many cult societies warned that he was a master of illusion (it is actually one of his greatest defenses.) We could only assume that an illusion was what happened next. I woke up again the second time, we all did, Willow lied on the steps, the rest of us spread out in corners, I was in the center and I specifically remembered that you… I mean Faith had a bloodied stake in her hand. When we came together we found the room was destroyed, cracked walls, saturated with a potent smell, this was because our hands were painted red. We came together to try and figure out why. We all discovered that we had the same good-feel dream about murdering the Gamekeeper. Hah! I was so excited because I had remembered that brief moment of him walking into the room and me looking at his feet. So I thought, of course we killed him. He barged into the party, we attacked him, and we passed out from so much exhaustion._

 _But I believe it was Angel who brought up, that "this is too much blood."_

 _We trained ourselves not to overkill. The way our clothes were drenched in it showed that we butchered him._

 _Then Dawn inquired. "Where's Buffy?"_

" _Probably already has a jump on the whole thing." Spike said._

 _We looked all around the base screaming "Buffy!" "Buffy!"_

 _I can't speak for the others, but I know it was in those moments of not finding her that I started to come to the conclusion that something had gone horribly wrong._

 _Xander came and got me thinking that maybe she was outside, in the Forest._

 _So I followed him there, we all did. Giles lead the way and it was there we noticed many footsteps staggered in the dirt. With every step we took the real memory began to overtake. We saw Buffy's coat along with her syphe in the grass. My heart was beating and all of our steps slowed down a bit._

 _And then we stumbled upon it._

 _Her foot was sticking out of a bush where her mutilated body lied. Dawn, Will, and Cordelia couldn't stand the sight so they ran away in tears. Angel and Spike quickly fell into denial while Giles, Faith, and I just stared._

 _On our one day of reprieve the Gamekeeper came and wiped out thirty percent of Earth… that was his warning. The only good thing about it was he said he was taking time to exercise this power with multiple worlds. So he said six years, six years he would come back around and accept our surrender. When_ __ _it finally hit us that Buffy had died we were juggling with much, like whether to concoct a spell to bring her back. I think in that following week all of us had attempted some form of suicide, we at least thought about it. The surprising part was not that she died; it was that we killed her. We started to have nightmares where she was looking right into our eyes as we did it. Out of all the horrible things that could have happened, that was the worst, and I realized that it was only going to get worst._

 _We just wanted to throw her a party and we ended up killing her_ _-_ _on her birthday._

If it was any other night I would have exclaimed, _you're full of crap_ , yet because of all I had witnessed I was fully aware this wasn't a make-believe story. This murder was why I dreamed of the Forest and the woman named Buffy. Could it be that the actual Faith was so distraught that she couldn't help but to give me her nightmares?

I looked back at Wesley. Those final moments with Buffy pained him more than the knife sticking out of his leg. Wesley shed a tear on behalf of her death. This information did not phase me, what did was that I felt the same hurt he was feeling and as a result my eye rims watered up. I was recollecting stored up emotions from a day that I never lived through. This was absolute evidence to me that the body I lived in was not mine.

"So am I the Gamekeeper's illusion?"

"No." Wesley murmured. "This illusion was built on our own accord. We would have killed each other and ourselves living with Buffy's death. So Angel contacted some gypsies and they put us in a five year illusion, all of us, so that we could forget the pain of losing Buffy and failing to save the thirty percent. Because the illusion was for such a long period it had to be extremely intricate. That is why you are built with a back-story, and a relationship. Built with people that we know or used to know."

"And Sunnydale?"

"Sunnydale was destroyed many years ago when the Hellmouth's collapsed. It was a wise decision for the gypsies to recreate it for us. It is a place of familiarity, and comfort. At the end of the five years they said the messenger was to come around and release our identities and through death we would be reborn. When they told us five years it sounded like a good idea. We told our slayer bases to keep the danger level low so we could properly heal. The one request that we had for the gypsies was to keep us in a world free from Buffy."

"Well they really tripped up on that deal." Cordelia cut in. "We all have dreams of this girl. We all woke up panting in the middle of night wondering who she was and if we had seen her before?"

"I guess that was a mishap. My best guess is that even in our illusion state we couldn't forget about her."

"So what now?!" I cried. "I feel real. If the real Faith comes back you'll be killing me."

"I wish I could feel something for you. But my feelings are lost in these times and all I can say that is, how would you put, it sucks, but life sucks and you must continue."

"Continue with what?" I begged.

"When the illusion evaporates and we are free we will have one year to prepare for the Gamekeeper's arrival."

"To surrender to him?"

"No. To defeat him. I surrender to no one. This occupation is more than hazardous, but it is what I do and I let no one, not even him make me bow. I rather die."

Wesley was so intense, his eyes said everything, he had been through too much. His world out of the ordinary, but people dying was not.

"How much time do we have?"

"What! Faith!" Cordelia screamed. "We are not gonna just give into him?!"

I knew it was over. Even if I wanted to survive this Gamekeeper guy didn't seem too nice and if they didn't get me he surely would.

That's when the door came tumbling onto the floor and the next moments played out in slow motion. A hand full of the people I knew yet didn't know barged in to Cordelia and I's secret hideout. They first released Wesley from bondage removing the knife from his leg, treating it. When they were done it was Willow who took the rope we used for Wesley to latch both Cordelia and I's hands together. She then made us drop to our knees. Where I appeared calm, Cordelia was distraught, she uttered to me "I love you," and I had no choice but to say, "I love you too" back.

Much like how I predicted a quick paced montage played in my head showing me all the ups and downs of my life. Quiet days walking down the halls at Sunnydale High, watching Dawn through my curtains, and God I would have given anything to fight with William one more time, but it was too late I guess. I was brought to the situation at hand when the real Xander requested that the small Indian child come forward with his chest. He looked exactly like he did the first time. As he halted at the front, I couldn't help but to gaze at the ones who had taken everyone else's place. Everything began to make sense. Like for example, Dawn said before that Xander was screaming at a point that his eye was missing. I looked at the real Xander and I saw there was a blotchy, disgusting, burgundy red where his left eye was supposed to be. The eye was gone, everything was slowly reverting back to normal all there was left was for us to go.

"WAIT!" I begged. The Indian boy was seconds away from fully opening the chest. "Just tell my successor, don't be such a frowny pants, make the best of what you got."

"Alright," said Xander. Then he turned to the boy, "open it."

"WAIT!" I thought this cry came from Cordelia who wanted to plead for her life one last time instead it came from the real Dawn who waited in the background. She pushed herself to the front of the crowd who waited for our execution.

Real Rupert Giles mumbled. "Dawn what are you doing?"

"Buffy always said that there will be times where you will have to kill the innocent, but when you do it, you do it with compassion and mercy." She said this while looking at Angel. Everyone standing bowed their heads acknowledging that it was the right thing to do. Dawn turned to, us, the placeholders and said this:

"Angel and Spike were telling me you had a sorta hard normal life. I'm guessing all of our placeholders did. You lived the ordinary, and it's been a while, but I do remember ordinary being difficult. Like when I knew Buffy as just my sister, hearing her say she hated me was harder to hear than mom announcing that she'd been injured by some vampire. Ok… off topic, but what I'm trying to say is, we need Faith and Cordelia. And if you can't take comfort in the fact that the pain will be over in a half a second, take comfort in the fact that you are far from ordinary, that your lives are worth more than any regular persons. Cordelia you are part Goddess; there is no limit to what you can do. I watched as you elevated yourself from Sunnydale mean girl to a warrior. You are far more than appearances and out of all of us you care the most. And as for you Faith, you're not just a bad girl, don't believe that lie not even for one second, there are a ton of slayers but you are the Slayer. You are the only one who can truly stand against the vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness. As much as I would like to say that I am the successor to Buffy, I think even she knew that spot could only be filled by you. That's why she was so hard on you. Saving the world from the Gamekeeper will be impossible without you."

I looked up and saw everyone smiling at me. In that moment, I was at peace with the whole world and I was ready to go.

The chest was opened, "to you I return your soul" the boy recited, and then gazing into my eyes I witnessed a champion merging in a misty fog far greater than what I had ever imagined. Her hair flowing with ebony and her stride majestic, imagine my happiness when I discovered that she was me. The dagger pierced my gut shortly after that, Cordelia went next, and we landed on the floor next to one another, ending the journey much like I began it, eying through the curtains the coming of the dawn.

The Earth shook. The illusion broken. The chosen ones ending up right beside a gaping hole which meant to emulate the Grand Canyon. In the hole was nothing but dried melted rock and lava. Beside it was a battered tin sign that read "Welcome to Sunnydale." This was indeed the real Sunnydale, exactly where they had left it years before, desolate and unhinged. A gust a wind flew above them as they gathered and came to their feet. It was a bittersweet moment to return to the place where their mission began.

Oz helped Faith dust her clothes off. "How are you feeling?" He asked knowing she didn't have any recollection of what had happened before, and her placeholder's struggle to survive, but he was still skeptical, so he asked anyway.

She simply responded. "Five by Five." It was the most obvious answer to show that she was herself again.

There was urgency amongst them to get a move on. They hadn't communicated with their bases in so long. Their empire could be in ruins, or flourishing. The Gamekeeper, being a criminal like most of "the big bads" could have went back on his word and came early and accepted the surrender without them. Vampires could be running ramped, and Warlock cults could be conjuring a devastating spell that would send the food supply aflame. Anything could happen, they had Buffy's Party for one day and the world went to Hell in a hand basket.

But they couldn't spring into action just yet, it was something about that moment. The sun rose again, it rose, even though the darkness seemed to far outweigh it, it even rose above the wasteland known as Sunnydale.

It occurred to the real Faith, that trapping themselves in an illusion for five years did not mean that they properly wept. If the illusion said anything they were just concealing their hurt so much so that their placeholders couldn't help but to feel it.

She dropped to the ground once again. The tears broke through her pupil and when one tear dropped the rest quickly followed. It wasn't long before her whole face was saturated in her rain of emotion. The rest wept with her. Xander slammed the floor with his fists. Dawn got into fetus position, Spike and Angel at first played with the rings on their fingers which allowed them to survive in direct sunlight (gifts from her) while trying to be the only two to hold it all in. They cried for the love of their lives; the one who made all the difference. It could be said in that moment they finally came to the realization that Buffy was no more. And unfortunately, that wasn't an illusion.*


End file.
